


King’s Gambit

by Kaiwren



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Blackmail, Blunt is dead in this, Gen, Jones Tries Her Best, Oneshot, alex gets seconded, only a little tho, sorta - Freeform, to kingsman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22569460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiwren/pseuds/Kaiwren
Summary: Mrs. Jones, the new Director, can’t just let Alex Rider walk away from Six; Blunt had written up a somehow legal employment contract.That doesn’t matter, though. Not when she has information on another agency she could hand him off to, though... now if only to make them all agree.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 202





	King’s Gambit

“What the fuck?” Alex stood up, his chair falling over backwards with a loud crash.

Mrs. Jones looked up at him calmly, adjusted the glasses on her nose, and hit the intercom button to her security team. “Stand down. False alarm. Shutting down all communications and surveillance for half an hour. Authorization Alpha Juliet Eight Twenty Five Seven Niner.”

She pinched her nose, and huffed quietly. “Sit down, Agent Rider. Your anger may be warranted but there is nothing you can do about it now.”

“Warranted? May be warranted? I think it’s perfectly bloody warranted! You-! You fucking used me and, and now there’s just a bunch of highly trained mercenaries that you could have used instead?” Alex paced back and forth, his hand twitching for his pocket. “I was a fucking child, Tulip. I was a child and you chose to use me over these Kingsmen. They’re even named Kingsman, clearly they’d do what you asked even if you did have to grease a few palms!”

“Agent Rider. Sit DOWN.”

Alex sat on Mrs. Jones’ desk.

Mrs. Jones sighed, but ignored his rather blatant but customary disrespect. At least he hadn’t thrown anyone out of a window, at least. Or blown anything up. He was a Rider, after all. “After the Valentine affair, Kingsman withdrew into itself for a while. They lost three of their inner circle- one MPD, one a traitor, and one KIA . They also lost a substantial number of their agents, as they tend to be family members. I cannot speak for former Director Blunt, but I still do not consider Kingsman as strong as they were. However,” Mrs. Jones paused, and dropped her eyes. “This assignment will keep you out of the field and away from GCHQ. Please, don’t blow it. After Blunt, well… no one really wants to just cut you loose.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you remember, all assaults and murders committed under Valentines’ influence were pardoned due to temporary insanity.”

“Yes, well, that’s all good, but the general consensus is that you wouldn’t have needed any induced insanity to terminate Blunt.” Mrs. Jones pointed out.

Alex slumped off of the desk, and splayed out onto the chair he’d originally been in. “So. I train with some of these Kingsman agents, maybe run a few low-risk missions, and what exactly? I’m not seeing much profit, for me or them. What do they get from their new allies?”

“We don’t take them down for being an unsanctioned intelligence operation, or for weapons charges. They’re not exactly the local street dealers, you know. We estimated at least a few hundred million pounds worth of weaponry, in addition to defenses, communications, non-weaponized technology, and other equipment in their headquarters alone. They even have specialized training grounds- which you will be introduced to.” Mrs. Jones smiled, a grin mockery of an ordinary persons’ weightless smile. This smile promised no advantage but to herself. “Of course, we expect maps and diagrams of their defenses. And, of course, minimal damage to their compounds. Attain security codes as you can, and ally yourself with their leadership.”

“Ally myself with their leadership? You do realize who I am? I’d more likely to tell them to go fuck themselves than to buddy up.”

“Again, Agent, they lost three members of their highest ranked agents- not just foot soldiers. Intelligence says that they’ve been replaced with two much younger people, codenamed Lancelot and Galahad. Lancelot is a woman, usually blond, estimated to be between 20 and 25. Galahad is male, 23, we’ve made a tentative ID of Gary Unwin, goes by Eggsy as well. He was a Marine cadet, seemed to be excelling, and then just one day woke up and quit. We’re not sure if that was related to the Kingsman agency though, as we have no evidence of contact between them prior to three years ago. The analysts think you’d get on ‘like a house on fire’, to use their terminology.”

“So, he’s also fond of explosive solutions?” Alex quipped.

Mrs. Jones stopped. “Well, we hope not… SIS does not officially condone such habits in her agents.”

Alex snorted. “Ah, yes, ‘officially’. I must have forgotten.”

“Alex.” Mrs. Jones said firmly. 

“Tulip.” He deadpanned back, even as he fixed his posture to stare her attentively in the eyes.

“Don’t waste this, Agent Rider. Just don’t, please. For all our sakes.”

“I won’t.” Alex nodded, moving to head out.

“Wait!” Mrs. Jones yelled. “The meeting- well, it’s in an hour and a half. There’s no point in having to go back through security for less than an hour outside.”

Alex turned back slowly. “You really were gambling on me agreeing, weren’t you?” He said, resigned.

“We don’t have a choice, Alex. You’re sixteen now, and intelligence agencies are demanding that you sign the OSA- you’ve already been inducted as an agent, even without that paperwork. They want you to be lent out to other agencies. If you go on this mission, it’ll take until you’re twenty-one- just five more years. That’ll make your six year contract completed, and then you’ll be able to leave. With references, even. Kingsmen even has contracts with multiple universities for accelerated work- wouldn’t you want to get a few degrees for free before you need to find a new job?” Mrs. Jones’ offer was seeming better and better, but it still rose hackles for Alex. Since when had Six been nice to him? Sure, Blunt was gone now, but Mrs. Jones has never stood up to him in any significant way for Alex.

“You’ve got it all planned out, haven’t you?” Alex muttered bitterly. “I never had a choice, did I?”

“I’m afraid not,” Mrs. Jones said severely, “This is the best thing that could have happened for you, and I’m not going to let you lose this chance just because you’re still bitter about your employment. We can’t change what happened but we can improve this shit show.”

“So we’re calling it an employment, now, huh? Just call it like it is, Tulip.”

“Alex, please!”

“Fine.” Alex stood up, balling his fists. “Fine, I’ll do it. Just don’t think it will ever mean I’m a patriot, or one of your stooges. Maybe if you’d waited, let me have a life before asking me to join Six- but now you won’t. Ever. I’d give myself up to Byrne before you.”

“That is all I ask, Alexander. Do this job, get out of this life, and never look back once you do. Please.”

“Trust me, I won’t.” Alex strode out of the room, keenly aware of the half-hour limit on their privacy. She’d probably reinstate it during their talk with the Kingsmen for plausible deniability. You just don’t record your boss negotiating with nonexistent agencies, after all. That makes for a short employment without any possibility of retirement.

Striding down to Smithers’ workshop, Alex was amazed at how many of the agents he knew on a first hand basis. A few years ago, when he’d been brought in, he could only tentatively name Crowley as anyone related to his Uncle's work. Now, he’d worked besides- or in charge of- many of them. Since becoming an official agent, his job requirements and missions had begun to differ, as six took responsibility for his safe return, and more agents learned of his existence and how his employment had come about. It was a bit of an open secret, but many of them tried to look out for him on missions- as if fulfilling uncle roles they’d long been denied. It was a weird family set up, but everyone knew that it was the best they could do for the broken, scared fourteen year old Blunt had brought into the Service.

“Hey Smithers,” Alex whispered as he walked through the security doors. They’d never done much to keep him out, and Smithers had never bothered to block him. The workshop had become his hideaway, a safe place he could recuperate without invasive questioning. “I’m back. Want any help?”

“No, no, my boy- we’re just reviewing reports on our prototypes right now.” Smithers glanced up from the paperwork spread all over his desk, and his gaze softened. “You can work in the programme on the laptop by your left hand, if you want to. It’s in Python, though.”

“S’not a problem, Ian got bored once and taught me.” Alex pulled the computer over to a desk he could work on, and booted it up. “Did you know?”

“Know what, dear boy?”

“Kingsman.” Alex said simply, staring at Smothers reaction out of the corner of his eye. “Independent intelligence, apparently. Mercenary.”

“Oh, them.” Smithers froze a little, but continued, “As far as I was aware, they were only online, no field agents. Never came across any information on field missions, just their computer programs.”

Alex slammed his hands down on the keyboard, and the programme he was working gin disappeared from the screen. “So everyone knew about them? Everyone but me!”

“Alex, I met their Merlin online once.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Alex raised both his eyebrows. “In a chat room? How do you just stumble across someone online?”

“Back when I had certain interests and no protection, Alexander. I met Merlin online, and three days later, I was in juvie with no chance of getting out for years.” Smithers fisted his hands, and closed his eyes gently. “They’d been contracted, to find out who’d been after classified intelligence. That wasn’t what I’d been going for, but they still passed my address and information over to MI6.”

“So, they snitched on you?” Alex guessed. Why didn’t Kingsman want Smithers, then? He was brilliant, and Britain would certainly have been fucked if he’d decided to sell his services. 

“Says the professional snitch.” Despite his harsh words, Smithers shot a soft smile at Alex. “They didn’t want to leave someone like me alone without oversight. Without someone they felt they could trust to hold the other end of my leash.” Smithers’ voice turned spiteful at the end of his sentence, aware of how hypocritical Kingsman was for that sentiment. They had been created to escape a certain amount of governmental oversight. 

Alex’s heart stopped. “Do you think they’ll- that they’ll try to keep me?” Wideyed, Alex began to hyperventilate. “I won’t, I won’t! I’m not living like this forever!”

“It becomes easy, Al. After a while, you forget what it’s like to give yourself your own missions. It just becomes one day after another, simple as breathing.” Smithers shook his head. “I doubt they would for you, though. They’re old fashioned, you might call it heavily classist. They respect the Riders, especially with how… destructive your family has been when held to an agency. Most likely, they’ll just ask you to stay out of the underworld when your contract is over. They’re not a fan of unwilling agents.”

Alex huffed. “I don’t like betting my life on a doubt.”

“No one does, my boy.” Smithers responds, leaning back in his chair. “They’ll leave you alone. Tell you what.” He stood up, and grabbed a metal case off one of his storage cabinets. It was matte black, with a strange symbol on the front- a horse skull. “I started creating this for you, not long before your uncle died. It was originally meant to connect to his security system, to tell him if you were ever in danger. Simply press this tip,” Smithers passed over what looked to be a braided leather cuff with a metal clasp. “and it’ll send an alarm to here, your house, and a number of your choosing. Take it off without saying the pass phrase, and it’ll spray a chemical onto your hand and the surroundings that can be tracked for up to six months.”

“Radioactive chemical trails? What if someone cuts it off me?”

Smithers grimaced a little. “Not radioactive to be detected by anyone but me, okay? Just don’t run a Geiger counter over it or spray it over babies.”

“Got it.” Alex confirmed. “Still, what if it’s cut off?”

Smithers shrugged. “Same thing as removing it without a passcode, but it’ll send two alarms and will do its best to inject a small tracker into the wrist it’s around?”

Alex looked stunned. “The tracker?”

“GPS, and about rice size. You can cut it out if need be, no problem.” Smithers looked over at Alex. “Of course, this is off books, so… if it should be activated, but you don’t want it to be, well, one of my computers might have a catastrophic failure. Part of the business when they run almost 24/7, you see. We really need more investment in technology.”

“Thanks, Smithers.” Alex smiled, and clasped the bracket over his left wrist. He hissed as it tightened flush with his skin, but some things couldn’t be avoided. 

“Now go on, dear boy. You’ll be late for the meeting if you wait. Tailors really don’t appreciate that sort of thing.”

Alex nodded, and followed Smithers advice, running back to the elevators. He arrived at Mrs. Jones’ office just as a pair of adults he didn’t recognize were escorted around the corner. Examining them, he realized they fit the profiles Mrs. Jones had given him earlier. This must be the Lancelot and Galahad they’d mentioned before. He was almost surprised that they didn’t also bring along Merlin.

Alex nodded at Crowley. “Agent.” Crowley nodded back and echoed his greeting, to his companions surprise. Seriously, had they not heard rumors of Six’s child spy? His name had been getting around recently.

Next, Alex turned to the Kingsmen, and decided to be as annoying as possible. With a wide smile, he ducked his head mockingly for a second. “Lancelot. Galahad.” Noticing Unwin’s eyes dart ever so slightly to the left, his devilish grin widened. “And Merlin- so good to have you!”

The three agents faltered, and Crowley's eyes glanced from Alex to the Kingsmen suspiciously.

“Merlin? Uh, Merlins not- we left Merlin back at headquarters?” Galahad/Unwin exclaimed unconvincingly. It’s just-“

“Ah, yes…” Alex drawled. “Of course you need glasses for your absolutely terrible 40/20 vision. How mistaken I must be.” Alex glared at the pair of glasses on Unwins face, before winking directly at the minuscule camera hidden in the rim. 

The two agents sputtered, and Crowley grinned before motioning to another agent, who walked up with a lead lined metal case, identical to the ones in Smithers’ labs. “I’m afraid there are no recording devices permitted within the Director's office. Please place the glasses here. Now.”

Reluctantly, Lancelot and Galahad surrendered their glasses, glaring at Alex the entire time. He smiled happily back, determined to enjoy every second of independence he could get from their rules and control before Jones handed him over. Not the best way to curry favour with a new boss, but he was damned if he was going to just roll over and accept being the pet of another intelligence agency. They could go fuck themselves.

The door swung open, and Jones poked her head out the doorway. “Please, come in.” 

The four of the filed into the bland room, the only touch of color a red and yellow bouquet of tulips set carefully to the side of Mrs. Jones’ desk. Mrs. Jones directed Lancelot and Galahad to her leather office seats, and Crowley circled her desk to stand at her right hand.

Alex nearly started laughing at the pomp of it, almost reminiscent of some sort of an outdated royal tradition. He slouched carefully by the door, ready to react as soon as possible but still loudly broadcasting his discomfort with the meeting. He would not permit these mercenaries to think him tameable. (Alex carefully avoided thinking of how he’d nearly become a mercenary, his chest twisting in a memory of long-gone pain. Five years, he chanted mentally, five years and he would be free.)

Alex tensed as Mrs. Jones deactivated the security again- a different code, he idly noted, and for a longer time. “Welcome, Kingsman Lancelot and Galahad. I was very pleased when we managed to secure this meeting. I have found, over my long course of service, that it is always useful to have strong connections with your allies.”

“Of course, Mrs. Jones. We’re eager to maintain our independence, and are very pleased with this opportunity to increase our cooperation.” Lancelot said kindly, in a diplomatic voice.

“Why don’t we just cut all the bullshit?” Galahad cut in. “We ain’t gonna start reportin’ to ya, nor give up our contacts willy-nilly. You want to use us to do yer dirty work without having to clear it with your bosses. We don’t just do that for you. We do favors, and trying to blackmail us for a meeting is a very good way to get us the blackball you. So. Why shouldn’t we? We don’t lose much by walking away now.” He leant back confidently, daring Jones to challenge his declaration. 

Reluctantly, Alex felt the stirrings of respect for the brash spy. Galahad probably didn’t have the full picture of who precisely he was dealing with, but, well, anyone who challenged Six wasn’t a total write off.

A flash of anger appeared over Mrs. Jones’ face, but she calmly controlled it and leant forward. “I can offer a shooting instructor.”

Galahad barked out laughing, “A shooting instructor? A bloody shooting instructor? Why would we even need one? We’ve hundreds. Who can’t shoot, that’s the question.”

“In instinctive shooting.” Mrs. Jones finished. “And I know you’ve been having issues with SCORPIA recently. My instructor also has inside information on them, if you wish for it.”

Lancelot creased her brow. “A SCORPIA shooter? Why would we take a terrorist prisoner off of your hands? They’d only be a financial burden and escape risk. That’s even less than what we wanted from this. We need viable information, not to build another black site.”

“A burden? I mean, I’m many things but I don’t think I can usually be classified as a burden.” Alex cut in sarcastically. 

“Orion.” Jones said simple, leaning back as if to wash her hands of the conversation.

“Sorry ma’am.” Alex rolled his eyes at the forced niceties.

At his voice, the agents had spun around to stare at him like some form of rare zoo animal. “You?” The woman said.

“Yep.” Alex popped his lips, and grinned at her, a dark grin that held echoes of Dr, Three's more memorable lessons. “Me.”

“But you’re a child!” Unwin- Galahad said blankly. A patriot, then. 

Alex stared at them in exasperation. “And?”

“You shouldn’t be involved in this- our sort of business!” It was Lancelot again. For fancy mercenaries, they sure held a great many morals.

“Welcome to the real world,” he sneered. “Where what should be actually fucking matters.”

“Orion!” Mrs. Jones reprimanded. “My apologies, he’s a bit testy about his employment.” Ignoring the two Kingsmens’ horrified expressions at her casual acceptance of a child soldier, she continued. “Which is why it is even more necessary for you to accept him as our liaison officer to your agency.”

“He’s a child!” Galahad ranted. “You don’t involve a child with this!”

“Precisely.” Jones responded sharply. “Take him as a liaison officer. Learn from him what he knows about SCORPIA. Have him teach instinctive shooting, or even put him full time in school, I don’t give a damn. He’s a child. Ensure he doesn’t remain here.”

Galahad’s eyes sharpened at her emphasis of ‘here’. “You’re position is as stable as it seems, is it?” He murmured.

Jones glared back. “Perhaps. But I can’t just have him walk out- the bosses won’t permit it. So, will you take responsibility for him?”

“Him has a name, Tulip.” Alex added helpfully.

Lancelot huffed at his phrasing, and knocked Galahad’s back with her arm. They must be close then, he thought. Galahad didn’t even flinch at her touch. “We accept. On the condition that you also don’t ever try to blackmail our agency again. And that you delete put information.” Lancelot bared her teeth. “We also want our glasses back.”

“Agreed.” Tulip’s face split open in a facsimile of a smile, barely passing for genuine emotion. “A productive meeting, then?”

“Of course.” The two Kingsmen rose from their seats, dismissing the agents behind them. Alex trailed behind them, unsure of his place. 

“Come on, kid- Orion, yeah?” Galahad called out to him. “Let’s take you to HQ, show you around. You ate recently?”

“Uh- Yeah?” Alex spoke softly, unsure of the sudden kindness by the earlier crass man. 

“Great.” Galahad smiled again, a real smile, not the awkward strained smile he was so accustomed to seeing from unfamiliar agents. “We could even have a suit made for you, if we hurry.”

Confused by the statement, Alex followed them. A suit? Whatever that meant to them, to him it meant he was somewhat safe. No one wastes money on a burden. Clearly, they hoped to keep him for the length remainder of his Six contract.

**Author's Note:**

> Eggsy is a bit of an older brother, isn’t he?


End file.
